#meta: scritches

[dilf-in-peril]

CM Punk receives scritches from Chris Jericho after defeating Jericho at WrestleMania 28.

[izvmimi]

cw: spoilers. after timeskip. selfship-coded. reader has a defined quirk. hurt/comfort.

As strong as the bond between any high school class can be (even yours, arguably more a small superpowered militia than a group of hopeful freshmen in far over their heads and strong enough to make it through the other end anyway), paths diverge as people follow their dreams, even if they will all forever call UA their home. 

It’s fitting that Izuku Midoriya, indisputably the most affected by the trauma of the meta war has kept UA as home base, and settling into his new career as teacher has remained both expected and fulfilling, even if poorly introspective onlookers would think otherwise. He is the heart of what it means to be a hero and that is to inspire the present and the future, and carry on the lessons of the past.

He is also your heart, you muse, as you find him sitting at your kitchen table, poring over graded essays, the red ink from his excessively lengthy corrections and comments practically jumping off the paper it’s scribbled on. You set down your work bag and attempt to sneak up behind him, but even if he’s focused and still, he’s always sharp, setting his pen down to turn around and greet you with a kiss.

“Hey, you’re later than usual, so I just let myself in, is that okay?” he asks. You nod, moving over to wash your hands in the sink quickly, then coming back around to pull a chair next to him. 

You’ve wanted to ask him to just move in together for months now, especially since now you spend more time at each other’s places than you do your own separate ones, but something about the proposition has felt wrong, rushed maybe. It’s been just a little over a year since you moved back to Japan after your fellowship overseas, and while you’ve remained in a varying level of contact the whole time since graduation, the flux of things has changed significantly instead of settling normally. For one, confessing an unrelenting affection that was kept mostly secret since high school had changed the trajectory of your lives, finding ways to incorporate seeing each other without fanfare between your busy post-grad education and his UA courses, then finally a year of long distance had made it difficult to ever feel like things had been truly steady.

“I wouldn’t have given you a code or key if not, silly,” you remind him. He smiles, and you glance over at the last assignment he’s corrected, and grimace. 

“You know if Aizawa had given me this many comments on an essay, I wouldn’t have shown up the next day, Izuku,” you remind him. He laughs, as you take the paper and read his feedback, mind spinning.

“I mean, no kid’s ever cried yet. I try to be nice.”

He is nice, you think, realizing that not a single word in the practical novel he’s scribbled in the margins of the brief constructed response can be misconstrued as disappointed or demanding. 

In fact, you would have cried tears of joy reading this. 

“How was the clinic?” he asks over the turn of another page.

“The most darling kid who didn’t have a Quirk manifest yet at age 5 showed up with worried parents with too much money on their hands.” You twist your mouth to the side. 

Izuku doesn’t look up as he says, “Oh, that’s too bad.”

There’s a pang of discomfort in your chest for a split second, but he doesn’t say anything else, scribbling a series of checkmarks and x’s, the quick scritch of his pen a little louder and resounding.

Izuku was meant to be Quirkless and is happy being Quirkless yet again, his mission fulfilled and the world better for it - even if sometimes only marginally so - but you know he yearns for the ability to be back on the field, with the same restlessness All Might once recounted feeling once he’d retired to teach as well. It’s evident in the way Izuku stays up a little too late reading/watching the news at every level, and how much of his free time he coordinates to a similarly intense training program at the crack of dawn, and the fact that even now he bristles at the implication of Quirklessness as a disability.

Everyone can be a hero. He was the greatest of them all - is, in fact, and not just your personal one, but his own personal world has shrunk. Documentaries, videos, people’s memories will not change that the fact that he’s far bigger than the quiet life he lives.

Now he’s relegated to cheering his friends on, day in and day out, and preparing a path for the youth to surpass him, something he is willing to do, but you know perhaps the timing is a bit too early for someone who shines as brightly as him. 

You rest your head on his shoulder. I love you, you could say out loud, I love you, and the world loves you, for you even more than what you did and what you represent, but it doesn’t help and Izuku cannot help sometimes interpreting your love as pity.

“What do you want for dinner?” you ask instead, keeping your voice as gentle as possible.

He turns to kiss your forehead. “I’m good with anything.”

You hate that no matter what you ask, big or small, he’ll always say this, and decide you’ll order his favorite food instead.

—

Years ago, when Mei contacted you out of the blue while you were ass deep in your medical school finals, asking you if you remembered the last time you’d used your Quirk on Izuku Midoriya, you had immediately assumed she had officially gone insane. It had been greater than five years since you’d last had a normal conversation with her at all, if even that could be considered normal, and you hadn’t had a need to use your Quirk on Izuku since the meta war.

“I know it’s a long shot but I need to know if you still remember-”

“I do,” you answered quickly, then immediately your face warmed at the admission. You can’t help that your Quirk gives you near perfect memory of people by their neuronal diagram, but something about it feels stalkerish when you still think of him affectionately, and not just as someone you’ve once healed. It also doesn’t help what the circumstances were when you’d healed him… but that would be a concern and memory for later.

“How can I help?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes visibly at you when you showed up to Hatsume’s lab the very next day but the animosity between you two has been a running schtick for years and you responded in jest. Using Hatsume’s program to redraw each neuronal connection from memory and adjusting for differences related to age was your greatest contribution to Izuku’s suit, small sums of money to contribute to the class pot whenever you could spare them the other.

There was always a little pang of jealousy that Katsuki could always offer up more money than you could, which once you’d confided to him by late night phone call days before All Might came back to Japan, he’d remind you,

“I’m just trying to beat your boyfriend in a fair fight, don’t make this about you.”

Katsuki’s rash way of speaking has always intuitively comforted you in just this way. It brings a smile to your face, and you offer him a word of thanks, anyway.

“He doesn’t know, does he? I know you like to run your mouth.” 

Katsuki can’t see you roll your eyes. “He’s none the wiser, don’t worry.”

“Good.” 

—

Izuku sends you a daily good morning message, and you’ve rarely beaten him to the punch, but this morning, you offer him a phone call as you make your way to the center of the city to work. All Might is coming back today and will present his suit to him then, the fruit of all your joint labors, and you were practically unable to sleep due to the excitement. Part of you agonized over whether or not you should try to be with him in the moment, but this is a moment to be kept between them, mentor and mentee.

“How are you feeling this morning, Izuku?” you ask, hoping the pants of your speedwalk (late to work as usual), don’t concern him through the phone.

“Weirdly enough, excited. There’s a feeling I can’t quite place, a good one,” he starts, and your grin is ear to ear.

Hours later, you get an excited text and one of the happiest phone calls you’ve ever received, and your heart is full to bursting.

—

“It’s fine, you don’t have to fuss over me,” Izuku insists, and you pout. There’s one stubborn emerald curl that won’t right itself in your opinion, and he’ll be on set for an interview in just a few minutes - the first since returning to active hero work - but he holds your fingers in his hand and pulls them to his lips instead.

“It’s okay. Don’t be nervous on my behalf,” he reminds you as he kisses them. His eyes are kind and relaxing, and you let out a deep breath, biting your lower lip. “I’ve got this, I promise.”

“Fine.”

“I love you,” he reminds you. “Thank you for always being by my side.”

You nod, as his assistant whisks him away, and he steps back into the spotlight, where he’s always belonged.

[realpokemon]

My best friend keeps calling me a Tryhard and Sweatlord because I have a Tyranitar. Keeps throwing words at me like 'pseudo-legendary', 'weather meta' and 'overused'

I don't know what he's talking about! I've never battled, I just enter Miss Scritches into contests!

actually miss scritches is hugely op and using a banned ability by being the prettiest princess in the world

[fandomfluffandfuck]

You thinking any thoughts about Steve’s tits. Cause I am.

related to this (I assume)

I am always thinking thoughts and there's a 99.999% chance that at any given time those thoughts are fucking filthy. But, get ready to get meta because tonight I'm thinking about what Bucky thinks about Steve's tits...

Bucky doesn't just think he loves the hair on Steve's chest. He fucking knows he fucking loves it. Because when Steve starts giving a little less of a shit about being America's Perfect Golden Boy (this is right before his nomad transformation I'm imagining) he stops waxing his body and Bucky observes for himself.

Steve. stops. waxing. his. chest.

And, no, it is not a fucking drill.

Steve is suddenly no longer smooth and bare like a pale, freckled doll. No longer can some good sweat be all Bucky needs to get those tits slick enough to fuck--not that Bucky minds. He likes the hair. He likes that instead of being hairless and smooth and pure looks this golden fuzz starts to grow in. It comes in on his chest and his tummy and it is The Fucking Best.

One of the main reasons it's The Best is because it traps Steve's natural scent in--

His musk.

With that hair on his chest and stomach (and even his armpits because, fuck, there's no part of Steve that isn't sexy), he smells so fucking masculine--like sweat and strength and heat--and it drives Bucky up the goddamn wall. Just with one inhale. It intoxicates Bucky. Like, shit, Bucky was already known to faceplant into Steve's tits before, but now, it's even fucking worse. He wants to smell his fucking MAN.

He wants to breathe it in and lick it up and live off of it. 😵‍💫

He wants to scratch through his chest hair with his fingernails. Scritching against his round, perfect tits until he gets to Steve's nipples and touches those pretty pink targets and still manages to get those pretty, good-boy, fuck-me whines, gasps, and moans out of his toughening partner.

Because, fuck, yeah, those little pleading sounds are extra pornographic as of late...

Theyre extra hot as those little desperate pleading sounds coming from such a masculine man. God. They're tiny, needy sounds that beg for a big dick inside his tight, vulnerable little hole despite his wide shoulders, large hands, big muscles, thick body hair, rough stubble, and hard, thick cock. The rest of his impossible body makes that high register sound fucking impossible. How the hell can that come out of that broad, heaving chest and square jaw?

So, naturally, Bucky always goes searching for those noises. To fuel his lust and fuel the drive to pleasure Steve until it's arguably become torture.

Shit.

Steve's always had ridiculously sensitive nipples. Like, can cum from having them touched, pinched, licked, mouthed, bitten, or tortured with clamps type of sensitive. It's precious--the way Steve's fat lower lip drops open and those high whines come flying out of his throat, his blue eyes almost completely black in arousal and glistening with unshed tears as his muscles jerk him away from the sensation and into it at the same time. Like he can't figure out if he wants more or less. Like he doesn't know if he wants more or less of the feeling.

More.

He can't think.

But Bucky can think for him. And he knows, he always wants more. Deep down. Even if it hurts. It's just so good. He can't help it. He likes it when he hurts. He always has. Rough and mean and forcibly eroding him into nothing but a whimpering mush.

And that isn't changing, no matter if Steve's hair is starting to get longer, if his pecs and belly are fuzzy with hair, if his Brooklyn drawl is coming back with a vengeance, if his uniform is getting dirtier and dirtier, or if his rougher, darker edges are finally coming through after years of playing dancing monkey. It's not changing. And it's most obvious when Bucky breaks him into pieces like this--twisting and pinching and lavishing attention to his nipples.

I may have gotten a little carried away with this haha

P.S. with that photo... I can't stop thinking about biting his [Steve or Chris... I'm not picky] collarbones until he's nice and bruised. After all, don't you think teeth marks would make a sinful yet gorgeous necklace? 👀

P.P.S have more of Steve's tits...

[boygina-philosopher]

Butterball stuffed

Feat. Jesse Pinkman/Reader

Kinktober day 2: dildo

Meta: 2nd person pov, One shot, gender neutral,

Tags: dildo riding, large toy, recorded masturbation, safe sane and consensual, wearing just a shirt, bottom Jesse Pinkman, anonymous character, sloppy, sleepy, OOC but who gives a Fuck ain't nobody seeing this but me, poppers, drug use, dont actually do poppers they will literally put chemical burns on your brain, trans Jesse pinkman, vaginal fingering, bros filming porn, belly bulge briefly mentioned

-------------------------------------------------------

Sharp inhale, a warm sensation. Tingly, mostly buzzing. Numb, like that throat medicine. Maybe he should try it sometime. Slobbering dumb on your junk with those big junkie eyes he's got. Hiding the baby blue like it should be censored.

"alright, hold up," Jesse giggled like a bimbo. "Get my good angle dude, I wanna look like a male Paris Hilton."

He raised a single leg and lay on his back, clearly presenting himself just for you. He was just fucking around and it looked so laughable, yet everything circled back to the cunt behind those baggy pants, and how much you want it to leak and spasm on you. He hid his face betwixt his arms, holding up his ass higher towards your camera. You smack it loud, the resounding sound mixing with his yelp.

"DAMN BITCH, YOU SHIT WITH THAT ASS-"

Laughter and pillows and beating the shit out of each other aside, You'll never get to the cunt-stuffin if you keep fucking off. serious biz, this is PROfessional porno type shit.

"Jess, get on your stomach dude, I'll cut the camera on"

He flopped over like a lazy dog and licked his lips. His arms remained tucked under his loose chest as his head lolled off the the side, smiling like a dope. It hit immediately, as per usual. His legs lifted into a presenting position. From the cot he laid on, he looked like a high grade slut.

"Hell yeah, strip tease, let's get naked bitch!"

And as he did his cunt dripped idly. Poor neglected thing. A single shirt attempted modesty.

"You feelin' it now dude?"

"mmm, yeah..." Jesse moaned below you. You position the camera to look straight on, slightly upwards. The drawer is opened and Jesse's eyes widen.

"aw dude, lemme see! Where the hell did you get this?!"

It was a fantasy dildo, big and squishy. It winded with lumps and knots and was a swirly green and black. It was so fucking metal.

"Warm it up first."

Jesse lays one leg down, using two fingers to gape his tight hole. Slick and mauve. His cock was swollen from t-use. You grab at the corner of his mouth, exposing his sharp chipped teeth. His goatee scritches your palm as you coat your fingers in saliva. His mouth is slightly drier than usual, but it's boiling. He gently palms at your wrist and wraps his plush lips around them like a needy slut.

"good boy, not too much, you're already so soaked."

He pressed his tongue against your index and middle fingers, and watched the string of spit line you both up.

His cock twitched, steamed almost. God, it was so wet and welcoming, and he needed you to touch it. Stroke it until it numbed and the electricity made him spasm. Drag a single nail across the air above it and make him whimper.

"put it in man, deep."

You scratch his scalp as you walk across the cot behind him. You grab the camera, because this perfect cunt shouldn't be missed. It should be worshipped. Have a cross hung above it every day. You scissor your fingers just on the sides of his clit and he giggles breathlessly. He rolls his hips onto you and begs without vocals.

You go faster, swiping your fingers gently onto the cock, a single stripe up and down and he moans into his own hands. His shoulder blades twirled about his toned back. You go slower, leaving him just a single break, before pressing deep onto him. He arched his back and keened. It must have tazed him. Shot through to his nipples. He was so hot and swaying. His skin shone wet.

"fuck, put em in..."

You do so, pitching you thick fingers into him, feeling every crevice. Jesse blubbered nonsense as you curved your fingers, glazed and twitching. You touch his cervix. He jolts forward. He'd better get used to the feeling, that toy was huge.

You grab the toy from it's position on the counter and rub the shaft against his cunt. His head rubs against his pillow as his deep breath hitched and stopped with a breathy moan. His eyebrows screwed up. The tip slips into him and god, he looks so tiny compared to the behemoth.

"sit on your knees, I'm putting it in."

"hahh... yeah, I-mm, gotcha."

On his knees he stretched his torso. As the dildo pressed further you see his legs squeezing together. You force them apart, and he stumbled deeper into the cock.

"It's too much man, ahnn! It feels big an... an' it's squeezing me."

You press further, earning a moan that resonates from his chest. He loves it. He yawns and it's higher pitched than usual, almost a yowl.

"Gotta take it to the base dude. Rest'll be left out if ya don't."

"I get it! I--! Ghgh"

Jesse's eyes rolled back as he curled onto the cock. He was almost there, whimpering and panting as he did.

He shuddered and spasmed. Perfect. Jesse whined and threw himself onto the cock, grinding his hips to stretch that perfect spot. He fluttered and bit his fingers. You wrap a hand around his waist and he snakes an arm around yours. Faster, harder. Jesse slams down, snapping and moaning incomprehensibly.

He practically screams when you press your thumbs into his nipples and play with them like buttons.

"too much, too- much...!"

Cum drink and needy, a bulge seemed to slide in and out of his stomach.

"wanna see something sick?"

You press a thumb against the bulge just above his cunt, now full and his legs as far as they could possibly get. He yaps out a shrill whine and you can't possibly imagine how good he must feel. Burning and static, stuffed like a butterball as those grooves wreck his g-spot. The wet slapping fills your ears as you look down at his dripping thighs.

"fuck, m' gettin- I'm gonna cum, please, I'm gonna-"

Jesse screamed, moaning and panting as his pace stuttered, he bit hard on his shirt, exposing his body like a statue of sex. His chest and cunt flushed red as pleasure bursted forth, gripping his cock and neck. It radiated up and his tongue lashed out and tasted his filthy yelps and whimpers.

After an eternity he slumped over and rubbed his cock. It felt buzzy, like every touch was a needle.

"aww, you look cute dude. Fucked out and freaken... uh,-"

"if I wasn't, then the fuck was the point of allat?"

And you laugh with him as you imagine sucking his cunt until he cries and begs you to be gentle. Maybe when you feel like being on camera, and at the moment you're feeling REAL photogenic...

[fullmoonfireball]

One Last Thing

          The ship had been abuzz with excitement. It seemed like the four heroes could barely stand still for more than a minute, and when they did, her dad was talking their ears off. It had been strange to have the Lor Starcutter so busy lately, but this was a new height. It was a little scary, but... in a nice way? Morastrum wasn’t sure how to process the feeling.

          “So, um, which one do you wanna use?” she asked Kirby, perched upon her dear friend Mr. Sandbag, who was fresh off a beating. “Because I wanna make sure I’m grabbing the right ability if you get hurt and lose it...”

          Kirby let out a long “Hmm,” bouncing on his heels as if that would make himself think better. For all she knew, maybe it did. Either way, it was making electricity build up around him.

          “Leaf! No, Sand?” He flapped his nubs. “Or Tornado! Wait, I might want Water! Ooh, but Mic could be fun...”

          “Hey Pinky, none of us are goin’ deaf just so you can beat the dragon by yerself.”

          It seemed both of them had failed to notice Dedede, standing at the door with his arms crossed.

          “You’re no fuuun!” Kirby whined, shooting a quick spark arrow at Mr. Sandbag to disperse the charge that had built up around him.

          “... Um. Mr. Dedede? Dad always says I shouldn't stand in the doorway, because the sensor’ll stop seeing you if you just stand there too long, and shnnnk.” She mimed a slicing motion.

          “Doorway, shmoorway.” He waved a hand dismissively. "You two comin’, or should the three of us get all the glory?"

          Kirby let out an offended gasp, and rushed past Dedede out the door, Morastrum following shortly after. The other two heroes had been waiting more patiently in the main deck of the ship. To little surprise, they were currently caught in a conversation with her dad.

          “Hey, I got both of them!" Dedede interrupted. “We good to go now?”

          Meta Knight silently nodded.

          “Phew, finally!” Bandana Dee stretched, a smile in their eyes. 

          Her dad, however, wasn’t so eager. His ears lowered as he looked at her. “Mora, are you going with them? Landia’s quite the threat...”

          She opened her mouth to protest, but Kirby cut in. “She’s been with us for everything else so far!!!”

          “Morastrum is very skilled at dodging attacks,” Meta Knight added.

          “Plus, we’ve done a lot of other dangerous things on our adventure,” Bandana Dee chimed in. “Like getting chewed on by eels or sucked through portals!”

          Dedede nodded. “Yeah, I don’t see how helping us fight a dragon could be that much worse than followin’ us through the void.”

          “Alright, alright.” Her dad put his hands up. “Point taken- Mora can help you if she wants to... You do want to, right?”

          She nodded rapidly.

          “I guess that settles it, then!” He clasped his hands together. He clearly wasn’t any more pleased about the idea, but he still put on a smile. Apparently, it looked genuine enough that there was some celebration from the heroes... Well, mostly Kirby.

          “Before you all go to defeat that beast, though... Would you all mind stepping outside so I can talk to Mora alone?”

          And so ended the brief cheering. There were a few grunts and grumbles of protest, but the four heroes gave them their privacy, filing out the door.

          “...Am I in trouble?” Morastrum whimpered.

          “No, no, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm glad you want to help with all this.”

          “Then why do we need to talk alone?”

          "It’s just...” He took a deep breath. “You know Landia’s dangerous, right? It’s taken the Lor down twice already, and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

          “I’m tough! I’m fast!” she huffed. “I’m not scared of big stupid Landia!”

          He laughed, and gave her a scritch under the ear. “That’s my girl. Just promise me one thing, okay?”

          “Uh-huh?”

          “Once the fight is over, you come right back to the Lor and go to bed. It’s already pretty late, and we’ve got a big day tomorrow.” He held out a hand. “You got that?”

          Morastrum pouted. That was a dumb promise, but she really didn't want to miss out... “Okayyy...” she grumbled, shaking his hand. She could always stay up late reading just to spite that request, anyways.

          “Attagirl.” He smiled and patted her head. “You’re free to go join them now. Good luck!”

          Her eyes lit up, and she rushed towards the exit.

          “Wait!” He called out, stopping her in her tracks. “I forgot to mention one last thing!”

          She let out a loud groan, and turned back around to face him. “What?”

          “Don’t be worried if I’m not here when you get back, alright? I’ve got a surprise to work on.”

          “... Why wouldn’t you be here?”

          He winked. “That’d ruin the surprise!”

          Morastrum stared back. He was so weird sometimes. “Okay, dad.” She continued towards the door. “Goodnight I guess. Love you.”

          “Love you too, amulet. Sweet dreams.”

[hedgiwithapen]

OMG I loved your Shark fic last year, can I get a follow up? It was the Young Justice one with Ed as well, did the other people at the meta centers have super-powered cats?

 Ed scritched Shark behind the ears, then crouched so she could  climb up onto his shoulder.  "Ok," he said, more to clear his throat than anything. "Time to go." He stepped over the almost unconscious Slade, taking care to kick the man's sword as far from his body as possible. Ed knew that he should at least try to administer first aid, that shock alone could kill, much less bloodloss from an unsterile amputation. 

Ed went to his group of scared kids and helped one of the older teams lift one who had been knocked out, instead. He was something of a hero, sure. But he had priorities. 

Shark gnawed on the metal of the inhibitor collar around his neck. 

"Do not electrocute yourself, tiburón," he said, gently passing her off to another of the kids. The girl-- Nita something, File or Figh, Fite, he thought-- cuddled the cat close. 

"This way," Ed said, gesturing. "Stay together. Everythings going to be OK." He was reasonably sure, anyways, especially once Tye rounded a corner. the relief on his friend's face was a mirror of his own.

"Ed! Glad you're ok, we got chatter that Deathstroke's around here--" He noticed the collars, the kids only just waking up in the arms of their cohorts. "How'd you get away from him-- never mind, get behind me."

"It's ok," Ed said. " Deathstroke's not following."

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure, yeah."

 "He's only got one leg," Anita, that was her name, offered. "Shark ate the other one."

"..ate?"

"Well, bit it off." Ed shrugged. "Might want to send someone back there to deal with him."

"Might not," someone else muttered. Shark purred, a rumbling agreement.

[space-blue]

If Godwyn is the cause of deathroot because his undead body is infecting the tree roots and you can see his face in the related item/plants. Does that mean Maliketh has been tasked with attempting to actually kill him through consumption?

Hi Anon!!

That's an interesting theory! Thank you so much for such a fun ask. Sorry I'm going to go all out in my reply... And I'm going to go for No, as a short answer lol

My thinking (for the long version) is as follows:

Maliketh, when we meet him as Gurranq, is deeply unwell. He only snarls and grunts if you first meet him without deathroot on you. Then his dialogue goes :

"I smell it... Death... Feed it me... Tarnished... bring more... Death. I shall grant thee... eye... and claw. Feed me... more."

That's really not talkative, bare bones grammar, and plenty of repetition. But then the more you feed him, the longer and more complex his talking gets. The last thing he says as Gurranq before his farewell is:

"Henceforth, mine appetite shall be my sole companion."

And when you meet him again in his boss fight, after all 9 deathroots:

"Tarnished, why wouldst thou... Why... Tis no matter. I hereby vow, that Destined Death shall not be stolen again."

See how stark the difference is? His speech is not halting, he makes whole complex sentences.

So I personally think that we're directly healing his mind when we feed him deathroot. He becomes more cogent because it helps manage the "hunger" which I assume is not his, but a byproduct of having sealed the broken Death Rune inside his own body.

Then, there's the fact he's a static NPC as Gurranq, and an exile as Gurranq/Maliketh. Before you, it seems like D was the one in charge of finding deathroot for him. How long has D been working on that? We don't know. But Maliketh still owns the remnants of the Black Blade, and he whoops the Tarnished's ass even on his first phase as Gurranq, late game. I bet he could mow down through the entire game like it's easy mode if he wanted to, right?

So if he were tasked to kill Godwyn, why wouldn't he be actively doing that, instead of being a doddering clergyman depending on the goodwill of Tarnished? Sure he's too big to get into most catacombs, but he has troops and could go down to the Prince of Death's Throne if he wanted to.

Yes, for troops, he's the master of the Black Blade Kindreds (as the name might suggest), and these gargoyle bosses are hard to fight! Some info on them :

Gargoyle's Blackblade Bronze greatsword wielded by Valiant Gargoyle, mended with blackened corpse wax. Deals holy damage. Such is the mark of those who serve Maliketh, the Black Blade.

Yet he keeps to his Sanctum, hidden, cloaked, and under a different name. If he was tasked with murdering/finishing off Godwyn, surely he'd be more active, or would have been at least.

Gurranq moans a lot about his "sin" and his insatiable hunger. I think what he means by sin is that the stealing of a fragment of Destined Death in itself is a blow against the Order of the world. Ranni's actions were sacrilegious. It broke down the system by re-injecting death (and those who live in death) into the Lands Between, when it should have never been the case.

The very existence of the Golden Order hinges on death not being a part of it. The Mending Rune of the Death Prince says:

"The Golden Order was created by confining Destined Death. Thus, this new Order will be one of Death restored."

So the Golden Order was shaped from the moment Marika took out Death itself from the order of life, and made it into a black blade which she entrusted to her shadow.

A fascinating line is from the item description of the Black Blade sword itself :

"Maliketh's black blade which once harbored the power of the Rune of Death. A sad shadow of its former glory."

It seems to imply that it was once a smooth, perfect and beautiful sword, and that its "chopped obsidian" look is a result of the damage done to the rune. Aka the rune = the sword, in a literal manner.

When you kill him as Gurranq, he says:

"Marika...why...wouldst thou...gull me? Why...shatter..."

"To gull" means to dupe, to fool or deceive.

We're also told about Maliketh that:

"Marika's sole need of her shadow was a vessel to lock away Destined Death. Even then, she betrayed him."

So my understanding is that Maliketh, a shadowbound beast made to help (and monitor) his Empyrean, was probably sent over the edge by the double whammy of being 1/duped by the thief and then 2/duped by Marika herself.

We know from Ranni and Blaidd's questlines that shadows go insane and aggro when their Empyrean turns against the two fingers/greater will.

Ranni kills her Two Fingers and Blaidd loses it. What must it have been like for Maliketh, when Marika did FAR WORSE and shattered the Elden Ring itself? It's the biggest fuck you possible to the Greater Will.

The world has been broken/dysphunctional for an age. That's 1000 years or more of Maliketh dealing with the potential impulse to murder his sister, his confusion as to her actions (she kept him completely in the dark! Maybe she knew he'd turn on her), and the clearly debilitating presence of the broken rune in his system.

He was truly betrayed and left hanging, a receptacle for a major piece in the power game, and nothing more.

I think it's the rune that craves its own missing parts, not anything Maliketh does of his own volition.

I also feel like... He could DO so much, yet he didn't and doesn't. He's a nobody on the far end of Caelid, and then he goes in exile in crumbling Farum Azula... He doesn't want demigods or anyone else to find him.

The dude barely manages his own hunger. On the fourth root he attacks us, his one ally and visitor! He apologizes... poor pubber. he's basically barely coping and obsessively protecting the remainder of the rune, at a loss as to any other course of action he could take.

After all, we can presume he doesn't know about Ranni having one half of the missing rune fragment on her old body (or doesn't know where it is, and since she stole from him, she's very unlikely to talk to him at all, were he to try and ask lol). In order to get the whole mending rune of death from Fia, we have to help her on her quest. I don't see Maliketh helping with that undead nonsense, in his current state...

Godwyn, I feel, is this "sickness at the roots" that takes over the Erdtree and corrupts it. The Order is broken, the prince of Death has been left to propagate and fester.

A good question would be what happens after canon if you don't pick his ending and still go with an Erdtree focused one. Does his corruption continue to spread? Is Maliketh dead/capable of dying, since you keep Marika alive? Does deathroot start growing again? Is it basically a losing game against time, or does restoring a new Order means that the progress of corruption is halted?

You also have to wonder, did Marika and other demigods not know what would happen, when they gave a great burial to Godwyn in the roots of the Erdtree? Did they know he would grow and become a corrupted mer-monstrosity? Marika, maybe... but demigods don't seem to be in on anything major, and I doubt they would be keen on killing the erdtree (outside of Rykard and Ranni who are anti Greater Will)

I wonder if Godwyn wasn't buried with expectations that all would be well, but the shattering of the Elden Ring allowed him to start growing in the roots unchecked? With no more Marika to look after the Erdtree, every demigod busy playing Risk... no one was there to stop his propagation.

I feel like killing him fully and completely would indeed be doing him a favour. It's a shame we can't go and do that, after getting Maliketh's Black Blade and unbinding the Rune of Death. Surely by then we have all the tools to remake the full Black Blade and go stab Godwyn between his dead fishy eyes.

But what I've been thinking about (for fanfic) is a story line in which we mend the rune of death and gift it back to Maliketh instead, restoring his sanity and taking him along, basically getting a piggy back ride fast tracking to victory lol

Let the siblings have a little tête-à-tête. Except, of course, Marika is in no state to talk to anyone. You really have to wonder what her goal was, and if she begins to be healed by your ascension as Elden Lord, or remains a hollowed out shell?

I still believe it makes the most sense that Marika is playing 5D chess with everyone, and that her betrayal of Maliketh includes orchestrating the stealing of the fragment of death as well as the half-murder of her son. Scheming mama Marika makes the most sense to me, rather than "grieving mom Marika", which seems to be the accepted theory most random NPCs share with you.

[datastate]

the reverse hourglasses...how horrifying. as the time approaches to vote, the red covers your hands. no one is innocent, you all chose someone to kill in your discussion. their blood is on your hands. you agreed to a martyr in exchange for your own life. you're never allowed to forget that.

[darkwarriorproject]

Out of curiosity in Cascade will Jak end up using the Dark Giant power from Jak II? I was also wondering what eco color that would fall under since the rapid growth/size changing would seem indicative of dark eco imitating green eco?

I wasn't planning to, no. For Cascade, I've decided to stick to the powers that remain consistent through J3, particularly those that have plot relevance (appearing in cutscenes and/or required to use at critical moments in gameplay, such as the invisibility & projectiles) and abilities that I feel make for interesting new developments. The ‘dark giant’ ability has more of a ‘cool unlockable extra’ vibe to me; even in II it's an optional bonus ability (never mentioned within cutscenes & not required to beat the game) and then it's not present in 3 at all.

If an extra-powered dark Jak mode does appear in Cascade, it would definitely be something that makes the current transformation effects more pronounced/‘monstrous’ rather than him just getting bigger– which would be a green eco ability! The dark Jak transformation itself falls under green eco (he instinctively altered his body to be able to absorb large quantities of dark eco, as a defence mechanism) though Jak isn't aware of that particular connection yet.

and I do have... other big plans for green eco & how it contributes to Jak's dark powers 8) it's gonna be a while before we get there but those particular developments are some of my favourites, so there's definitely a lot more to look forward to as the series goes on!

[asteriskheart]

Mori hates getting headaches outside of training and fights, where it can be relatively shrugged off without much fanfare. He never tried to linger on the subject of why for longer than a stray thought, dismissing it as just not liking sense of unease / dread that always comes with it, and he subconsciously goes out of his way to avoid getting one. On the off chance he does get one, since they sometimes flair up randomly, he usually carries a few things on hand to ease it as quickly as possible and get back to whatever he was doing. The reason for the dislike only increases further after he regains his memories as Sun Wukong, and all the negative associations that came with them.

[widogastc]

the one thing i will never write full meta about is the fact that caleb let go of frumpkin, it straight up makes way too emotional as a cat owner but what i will say is that of course frumpkin doesn't leave. of course frumpkin just keeps and keeps and keeps coming back because caleb might be the one to let him go but frumpkin does not and will not let his human go. sure he comes and goes through the feywild willingly and he's gone for months at the time but he always comes back. he always checks up on his human, sometimes from afar or as something other than a cat, sometimes he is caught sleeping in a sunny corner like he never left, sometimes he just shows up in the wizard's demiplane and demands scritches and love in offended little meows like he has always been there and they are the ones ignoring him. caleb can think he was frumpkin's master all he wants but he should have known from the beginning that cats are the ones that end up owning you. he is stuck with this kitty forever

[opal-owl-flight]

Does Magolor like chin scritches? I won’t try it myself of course.

Meta, “…He adores them! But if anyone other than me tries to give them, hed probably blast your face off while swearing in Halcandran.”

[victory-candescence]

I saw a few posts about beard!Stede and I love the meta examinations

You are all fantastic, and it’s really got me thinking!

But I couldn’t help considering:

Stede meeting back up with Ed – reunion, maybe drama? kissing yes yes yes

and then Stede going, “You haven’t said anything about my beard.”

Ed: “What beard? Where?”

Stede (slightly indignant): “Just look at me! I practically look like Father Time!”

Ed: scritches one finger over Stede’s cheek and laughs

And it’s really just like the equivalent of 3 days worth of stubble, which he thinks is so rakish and rugged

(And promptly shaves off again as soon as he realizes how badly it catches on silk.)

[elegant-fan-twirl]

(Mildly critical of MXTX and Bingqiu, which I ship, do not read if you are Tired of Discourse, which I certainly am but hold on I got thoughts)

The reason I had to read so much Bingqiu fanfic after finishing Scum Villain is that it just needed so much fixing. You know?? Everyone says "go read the extras" and the extras didn't help that much.

I mean, right after reading the novel for the first time and no extras, I was ready to support this weird relationship where one party has no sexual interest in the other and loves him in an ambiguous way rather than being full-on in love, while the other one just wants to rest a little and get some head-scritches and preferably sex eventually. I mean, it was a CHOICE, quite clearly, and one that could give them both peace and contentment.

After meta and rereading I am a little less sure that Shen Qingqiu had absolutely no sexual or romantic interest in Binghe, but it is kind of up to debate, changes the reading, but all right then, he still had that hump to get over and he chose to get over it. It was time to put the drama behind.

But then the extras don't portray them being at peace or contented. Or at least I don't get that vibe. And it would take SO LITTLE. The material is there, there is all that potential, even for learning how to do sex (and D/s) right. Instead we still get that vibe that SQQ is merely tolerating LBH and weak to his manipulative tears. And being submissive in bed! Is that what the public wanted, MXTX? Well I reject that and replace with fanfic, thank you very much.

Speaking of, need to find more lazy dom SQQ fics.

Edit: Rereading this, I realize it sounds like I don't think Shen Qingqiu loves Binghe. Absolutely he loves Binghe! When I first read the book, I didn't think he was in love with him. Now I do think so (at least eventually), but I still think the vibe/dynamic in those extras is just off. I think at least some of it is just awkward writing.

[star-labs-intern]

Harrisco prompt! Harry playing with Cisco's hair, or Cisco playing with Harry's hair. Could be established relationship or still not together yet.

A/N: This is super old but I recently rediscovered it and I was inspired to write something for it! Sorry for my terrible tumblr etiquette. As usual I picked something kind of in the middle - it’s not quite established relationship; they’re in the process of getting together... You’ll see!

Harrisco Hair playing

Cisco and Harry kissed, very late one night in the workshop. Cisco, all truths be told, was beginning to think it had been a dream. Harry was tense and awkward around him in the two days that had passed. Cisco couldn’t tell if Harry was yelling at him more or if it was just his imagination.

Just when Cisco was beginning to truly believe it had been a very strange dream, triggered by fatigue, too much Big Belly Burger and a special psychosis brought on by a distinct lack of facial variation in lab partners… that’s when Harry started.

It was another late night in Cisco’s workshop. They were working on a gadget the team undoubtedly needed for tomorrow’s impending meta – fight.

Cisco gasped, full and sharp, feeling something touch his hair and flipped his curls reflexively, twitching away from the unknown contact. Cisco looked over his shoulder and found Harry, one hand outstretched and looking very caught.

“You have something in your hair.” Harry rasped, removing his glasses with his other hand. “Let me get it for you,”

Cisco tried not to notice Harry’s fingers trembling a little as he reached into Cisco’s bubble. “Ah, it’s a little scrap of paper –” Harry said

“You got it?” Cisco asked.

Cisco really tried to think about office supplies and how he had managed to get scrap paper in his hair. He tried not to notice that Harry was close enough that Cisco could see the little crease on Harry’s nose, the pressure mark from wearing his glasses all night while they worked. He tried not to notice that he could feel Harry’s calloused fingers, brushing through the strands of his curls.

“There’s one more piece, hang on,” Harry muttered, and his thin fingers were combing gently through Cisco’s curls this time.

“Hey,” Cisco started to protest, but then Harry’s free hand came up to cradle Cisco’s jaw and Cisco froze.

“Almost got it,” Harry whispered, and Cisco tried his very best not to notice that their faces were closer together than they had been since they kissed the other night, either in Cisco’s workshop or in his dream.

He tried not to notice when Harry pushed a little farther, his fingers making contact with Cisco’s skin, a slight scritch of fingernail against scalp and it was quickly feeling like too much for Cisco.

“Jesus Christ, Harry,” Cisco breathed, finally overwhelmed with their closeness, his hands suddenly digging into Harry’s hips and walking him backwards until he hit the desk opposite Cisco’s. Harry was still touching Cisco’s face, but Cisco fingers only tightened on Harry’s hips and he kissed him hard. When they broke apart Cisco turned his face to press kisses to Harry’s palms.

“Did you get whatever was in my hair?” Cisco asked sheepishly.

Harry grinned wildly, then. “There was never anything in your hair.”